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The Case Against Marriage
A Book in Progress by Glenn Campbell “Read it or weep!” Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 Production Notes This is a ROUGH DRAFT of a book that still needs a lot of work. I have set it aside for now but expect to come back to it later Your feedback is encouraged, but I recognize that the chapters don't yet flow together as they should. FamilyCourtGuy<at>gmail.com |
A love interest seems to be required in every mainstream Hollywood movie. Not only must the hero fight the terrorists to save the world, he also has win the girl. There are trials and gunbattles, and at some point it seems that both the world and the girl are lost. Then, at the last minute, just as the clock on the bomb is ticking to zero, the hero rallies his strength, defeats the enemy and saves the girl. They fall into each others arms. The End.
What the movies never seem to show us is what happens next. What are the man and woman supposed to do now that they have found each other? If the movie shows anything at all of their future relationship, it is a wedding, with all the supporting cast present. The wedding proves symbolically that the relationship is a "success" and that all the problems between them have been resolved.
While there are countless movies about finding love, there are few, if any, about how to conduct it. There simply isn't enough drama in it. To power a movie, the protagonist's goals must be frustrated, and this is best served by erecting roadblocks between him and the girl that are only surmounted in the end. It's the same tired scenario repeated over and over, but there must be something primal in it because the audience seems to fall for it every time.
Routine married life is portrayed to the public primarily in television commercials. In the space of 30 seconds, we meet a man and woman in a prototypical suburban home. They have a problem, which will eventually be solved by the advertized product. The purpose of the commercial, of course, is to sell the product, but first it has to create the fantasy of the perfect life that the product will fit into.
Imagine if you were an alien—or a human—whose only information about life on Earth came from television commercials. It would be a curious and very restricted picture.
On Earth, the commercials show us, every family lives in a spacious two-story single-family house in a green and leafy neighborhood. As you enter the front door, there is a stairway facing the door on the left, and the living room is usually on the right. If you walk straight ahead, you get to the roomy kitchen. A big picture window looks out on a green backyard. In front of the window is the kitchen sink, and on either side there are identical countertops and cabinets, about 5 feet wide. The refrigerator is usually against the wall on the right. In the middle of the kitchen, centered directly in front of the sink and window, is the kitchen table, where many fine products are consumed and discussed.
The couple who lives in the house is also predictable. They are a man and woman of the same race and about the same age. The woman is slightly smaller than the man, and neither of them is overweight. The are attractive but not glamourous. Their interaction indicates an easy confidence in each other. There may be deception between them, but it is always benign. For example, if the wife serves dinner rolls to her husband and he thinks they're homemade, she might not reveal they are store-bought. Only the viewer knows.
Their only distress concerns the problem solved by the product. "Honey," says one, looking a calculator and a pile of papers at the kitchen table, "I don't think we can retire as soon as we planned." That sets up the scenario for the product to be introduced.
Most TV ads unfold the same way. First, an idealized environment is created: the perfect American home. Then, a problem is introduced and is briefly explained. Finally, the product is brought in to solve the problem. Look, no more greasy build-up!
It is all staged, of course. The house doesn't exist but is simulated in a studio. The husband and wife are actors who probably don't even know each other. Their dilemma is orchestrated in such a way that the product perfectly solves it. The whole production, in fact, was paid for by the company that is selling the product and that obviously wants to sell more.
Viewer's know this, at least on an intellectual level, but on an emotional level, the charade still works. People who have seen the commercial and who identify with the characters are more likely to buy the product.
The incidental product these commercials are selling is a fantasy image of marriage and family life. These families aren't chaotic. Their homes are perfectly clean. Everyone knows their role. There aren't any conflicts except humorous ones, and every problem can be solved by buying a product.
Advertizing sends a subliminal message to the public that the normal mode of life is married, with children, living in a spacious suburban house. It isn't the only possible lifestyle in the real world, but it is one most often portrayed in commercials. Why this particular lifestyle? Because it sells more products! Advertizers want you to sign on to their fantasy of the American Dream, because then they can sell you the accessories to that dream. They can't sell you furniture if you don't have a place to put it, and they can't sell you jewelry if you don't have a spouse to give it to.
Think of jewelry commercials. What are they selling? Jewelry! But they are also selling an idealized vision of marital love that facilitates jewelry sales. How do you show your wife that you care? You buy her a diamond, and she'll love you for it.
Isn't this a sick relationship message? If you want more love from your partner, you bribe them! The insidious effect of messages like this is that it encourages people to try to buy themselves out of relationship problems, which never works in the long run. Flowers, chocolate and Hallmark cards are never going to repair underlying problems of communication. The commercial world gives you no help there.
Remember that if you are married and you buy your spouse a diamond, you are paying for it out of the same community pot, so your spouse is really paying for half of it. In a sense, it isn't really a gift at all!
People enter into marriage with an idealized image of what it should be. Part of that image comes from watching real married couples, such as ones parents, who might not be revealing everything. The other part comes from mass media. Mass media, unfortunately, always has something to promote and is never going to give you the full story. It has one overriding goal: to sell products.
Romantic relationships require a complex set of methods and skills, like sailing a ship. There aren't really any products that can help you learn these skills. Even relationship books don't help much. You just have to get out there and start sailing, then be smart enough to learn from your misadventures.
Media is not your friend in this regard. It is bound to fill your head with distracting ideas that only slow down the learning process. You don't need 99.9% of the things media is selling you.
There are certain things you do need, but advertizing isn't going to lead you to them.
Continued in Chapter 17
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